Fate is never simple to explain
by Ocean-Breeze Mistwolf
Summary: AU: Brigit Reyes see's things that she shouldn't. Houses where there aren't any, people no one seems to notice. Harry is barely surviving in his abusive home. How do these two separate people link together and what effect will our favorite Gryffindor teacher and her nephew have to do with it? Includes Human not evil Dumbledore
1. Prologue

**1981 Prologue**

On October 1st one of the worst dark wizards of the era was defeated. He had killed in the thousands, lives that should have burned bright like the sun, were destroyed and remained mere sparks of their former glory. Heroes of old tried to destroy this menace, but they failed to; joining the rising body count. This monster was as powerful as he was mad. But they fueled him. The stagnant magic-users of Britain. Who knows what would have happened if they hadn't ignored him to begin with? If they hadn't ignored the mysterious disappearances in favor of their peaceful and ignorant existence. 'Ignorance is Bliss' the philosophers of ancient times said, the wizards of Britain embraced this phrase with a sickening joy. The ones who foresaw the tragedy were written off as mad and by the time the rest of them realized, it was far too late. This creature had its poisonous talons buried too deep and only his death would remove them – the poison however would take years to dissipate.

The defeater of said Villain was one of the unlikeliest of people – or should we say children. A little boy, around 18 months old, had done what no else, in the history of magic had done. He survived the killing curse. In years to come, some might speculate why this child could survive yet others couldn't. But that is neither here nor there.

Little Harry James Potter lost both his parents that day, and with it lost the life his adoring parents had planned for the magically gifted child. Instead he was thrusted into a new one. A life that would both mirror and differentiate from his parents's lives.


	2. Chapter 1 the beginning

**Chapter 1 the beginning - 1981**

When Hagrid arrived, he nearly broke down with misery. James lay lifeless in the entrance hall hands out stretched as if moving to protect something. Hagrid carefully navigated around his old friends still warm corpse and walked up the stairs and looked on in shock when he saw a pair of blazing green eyes starring out at him. The babies eyes were red with tears and had one hand clutched to his mothers unmoving body which was in a crumpled heat at the feet of his cot. The gentle giant was blubbering now, big fat tears rolling down into his large bushy beard, his yes screwed up as if trying to protect himself from the image before him. Seeing the giant crying set off poor little harry again and he began to wail, loud and clear as only a baby could. Realising he was upsetting the boy, Hagrid reigned in his tears and pulled a warm cotton blanket that Lilly had covered in a variety of simple runes carefully tucking it around the sobbing baby. He rocked it gently as he descended the stairs, keeping the baby facing towards him. He stepped out of the cottage and gave it one last mournful look before he mounted the shiny black motor cycle he had used to reach the isolated Godric Hollow.

It took around four lonely hours of flying before they finally landed in a suburb of Surrey – a Privit drive where the old professor Dumbledore and the Gryffindor head of house, Professor McGonagall stood arguing in hissed whispers until they had heard the rumbling of the flying motorbike making its rushed descent.

"I'll be goin' Professaur's, I need to return the bike," he told the teachers as he gently handed the now exhausted baby to the elder professor, missing the reactivated hissed argument

"You can't leave him with them, they're the worst kind of Muggles there are! You know Petunia hates Lilly." The furious Scotswoman said. It was taking all of Minerva's self-restraint not to hex the revered headmaster, into oblivion. "He needs a proper home, were he'll be safe,"

"The blood wards will protect him, they're the only blood relatives he has left." Dumbledore said trying to keep the irate woman calm and failing miserably. He had to keep Harry away from the wizarding world that was certain. Harry had a destiny and if he grew up with wizarding knowledge he would probably be unwilling to take the necessary steps to permanently irradiate Voldemort. Not that he would blame the boy but it was for the greater good, plus no mother could harm a child; especially if they had the kind of history Harry has. No this is better, he'll get a good enough family life but he'll learn to focus on the future. He also won't get too... attached.

"BLOODWARDS! Most people in the magical world are related to him considering how may times we've intermarried!" Minerva said turning a violent shade of red, which put a gingers temper to shame. If Albus was trying to use that half-baked excuse he must be desperate. For the life of her Minerva couldn't figure out why he'd want Harry of all people growing up here unless he wanted to live a loveless life. She knew that from only watching for a day, that Vernon had a nasty temper and a racist to boot. Then it hit her, why Albus would put Harry here. "ALBU-" She shrieked only to be cut off by his quick reaction.

"Enough, Obliviate - confundus – you will remember that we agreed to leave Harry here, you will not remember this and you will not search out Harry. You fainted because of the stress of James and Lilly's death" Dumbledore said quickly surveying her mind. Finding it clear, he awoke her after laying her on the ground.

"Minerva are you okay? I think it's time you went home." Albus said putting on his best twinkle and worried frown.

"Yes, the stress, I must'of fainted there." Minerva said her Scottish accent lilting her words, she had nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something was at odds but put it to rest when her splitting headache returned. "I'll be going now," She said briefly Kissing the sleeping Harry, before apparating away to her home in Fife and collapsing on her bed and falling into fitful sleep were memories of her husband,James, Lilly and all the other people she had lost to the monster that was Voldemort haunted her.

On the other side of the country in a small orphanage right on the boarder of Scotland and little girl dreamt. She dreamt of green lights, strange people, a teacher and sobbing woman who cried two phrases over and over. This dream, and phrase, would seal her fate forever.

"His name is Harry," she said. "Please find him, please."


	3. Chapter 2 Painted Pictures

**Chapter 2 Painted Pictures -1984**

"There is no house, there is no dog, there is no girl. They do not exist." Brigitte told herself as she changed into the dull grey uniform that was mandatory at her school. Brigitte attended Hadrian wall boarding school for troubled wards. That was the nice title for Brigitte's school, in truth it was a school for orphans or wards of the state who were deemed to be 'crazy'. Either they were a danger to society, were in need of "help" or all of the above. The school was deemed the best way of solving the "issues" their students had. It sat upon a lonely hill with its closest neighbours a few miles away, that needed a bus to reach due to the dense and dangerous forest that surrounded it. Hadrian was more like a prison than a school, and the newly erected electrified fences did not help with the image.

Brigitte Reyes was Hadrian wall's longest surviving student who had yet to be "asked a few questions" or "cured" - though she heard there were bets in the staff room on when she would snap.

Brigitte had been diagnosed with Hallucinations at 5. She saw things that no one else saw. She saw buildings were there weren't there, people in crowds wearing strange clothes that no one else seemed to notice. Her perfect memory didn't help; Brigitte could remember every singe detail of her hallucinations. She was sent to Hadrian so she could have teachers who could deal with her 'condition'. They didn't help. Instead she worked out a way of ignoring everything she saw, reacting only to what others reacted to, a skill the eight year old should never have gained.

However, she couldn't stop two things: One the dreams or should she say nightmares. She was constantly having nightmares, most of them focusing on green lights and strangely dressed people, wearing black cloaks and white masks. Though occasional she received other styles nightmares, but the green lights featured most heavily. The second thing was her guessing.

Take last Friday. Jenny, a kleptomaniac from whales, who lead the social scene at Hadrian, was going through her usual rantings of "F*****d up b***h" and "freak" as well as a whole host of other swear words -that very few 18 year old could claim to know - which were kind of hypocritical if one was to look at Jenny closely; When she had one of her goons – sorry brothers – sneak up behind her, in the unmonitored hallway with a knife "to have some fun" only for her to twist around and knee him in the groin, then rip open the secret pockets under his arms simultaneously. Now a girl with Hallucinations claiming to have been threatened at knife point isn't very believable. 5 packets of class A drugs dropping from a 17 year old teenager who had been held back 2 years, catching the attention of an entire year group who either feared or hated him – far more believable. When the police had come in she'd had to come up with some half ass excuse of "guessed fro his rep,"etc. They couldn't very well deny that so they were forced to release her.

She'd been attending there for 3 years now, and they had agreed to let her go on a day trip to an art museum in London. Now between her psychopath maths teacher – who she knew was behind several "disappearance's" of the pretty but more deranged pupils at (or rather were) attending the school and getting a away from the walled community of Hadrian, London looked very good. The main problem she faced was the trip required the chosen students to draw what was in front of them (they would be visiting and ordinary suburb in London. For Brigitte who had spent so long convincing herself what she saw wasn't real, returning to the busy world again was a painful procedure. It had felt like a torch had been shone into her eye or she had looked too long at the sun when they had visited the schools name sake. Brigitte had seen hundreds of people who all wore strange clothing, she had seen and laughing at them from a distance. No one else had seen them so she hadn't commented, but she had had the pleasure of making her hallucination sweat a bit when she stared directly at them for long time in the guise of day dreaming.

"Brigitte Reyes," The speaker system shrieked. Guess they want my decision she thought to herself. Shrugging she picked up and packed away her music sheets. All students at Hadrian's were required to take two "creative outlet" classes . Brigitte took Music and art. Art was a joke and she spent most of it just drawing random images and finishing homework, despite the fact she actually liked drawing. Her second class was Music.

Music, Brigitte loved above all else. It didn't rely on sight – which for her was so unstable. Instead it relied on sound the one . Brigitte was very gifted at music, she could play most instruments just by picking them up. However, her favourite instruments were flute, violin & piano (which she learnt formally) and guitar, drums and voice (Which she learnt through listening to music and working it out as she went. Even with all of this talent, Brigitte was well aware that she'd never be able to use her skills. Who'd want to listen to have a lunatic as a pop/rock star?

"Brigitte REYES!" The speaker screeched again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming – shesh don't get your panties in a twist," the eight year old said, packing the last of her stuff and heading for the main office.

"Finally! Who do you think you are keeping everyone waiting like that!" the school secretary was one of the people Brigitte hated the most. Miss Garage (or a least the person pretending to be Miss Garage) was the foulest rudest being she had ever come across and that was saying something. She was constantly giving the students that pitying toad like smile and was constantly trying to comfort them for being "unstable". She was always in a shade of pink and it did no no favours for the woman, fake or not.

Making her face cold and lifeless, Brigitte bowed her head to apologise but the hag was very well aware that she really didn't care. "My apologies madam, I thought the trip was tomorrow."

The student scared her, that Dolores Umbridge was certain of. She could feel the magic that swarmed around the almost lifeless child. If she had been happier, and took more effort with her appearance, she could probably be considered beautiful, which was strange thing for a mud blood to be. She had greasy blond hair that could be anything from cornflower gold to platinum blond, large green eyes that seemed to stare right into your very soul that were magnified by high cheekbones, though heavy black bags under her eyes ruined that feature. She had button nose, naturally plump ruby red lips, and flawless porcelain skin.

The report said she was possibly a witch, and Dolores had been sent to keep an eye on her and then report back. Now of course she wasn't going to let some upstart muggle get into a prestigious school such as Hogwarts. NO she had kept her at Hadrian for two long. This trip would give her the perfect opportunity to _remove_ her permanently. The AM&SD (Accidental magic and secrecy department) was starting to get twitchy after the third time some one had reported a skinny blond muggle child supposedly seeing past the wards.

"Very well come along," Umbridge said stuffily picking up her ridiculous carpet hand bag that really should have scaly crocodile legs to match its owner, in Brigitte's opinion.

"Are you going too Miss Garage?" Brigitte asked tilting her head sightly. Dolores shivered despite herself. The poly juice potion she took did not seem to work on the filthy mud blood. She seemed almost mocking when she addressed her by her disguises name. Yes, she was doing the wizarding world a favour by removing this one. "I didn't know you were interested in art." She couldn't help the sour frown that emerged on her face. She knew the girl was mocking her, taunting her. She dipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a little bottle of pale green liquid. the perfect way of removing the problem the child created. It had cost her a lot of money and a trip down to the hovel that was knock turn alley. But if it worked it would be worth every knut.

"Quite," was all she said as she unceremoniously handed Brigitte the vile which had the words hallucination prevention written crudely across he top. "The whole bottle must be finished before we leave the Museum." She then walked out the door to the awaiting bus that had 30 or so hyper active kids and 12 volunteers who were mostly their to add to their university applications waited impatiently on. Brigitte took her customary seat by the window and zoned out, idly sketching on her pad.

"That's very good," a deep voice said interrupting her musings. Brigitte blinked owlishly and stared a the young man who was sitting next t her. He was extremely good looking that was sure, but he also gave out an aura of kindness that completely threw Brigitte. In her experience the better looking the person the less likely they were to talk to her.

"Thanks," she said calmly putting away the sketch pad.

"Why you putting it away? It's really good," The volunteer said. "Are you looking forward to the art museum?" He said switching tack.

"Not really," She said still keeping herself cold.

"Why?" He asked puzzled, she was very talented if she could produce pictures like that with out even trying.

"I have hallucinations, look I even have the weird medicine to prove it," She said reaching into her pocket, then shaking the vial slightly. "The only way I can tell if something is real is if I can touch it or hear it, and art seems to be about drawing what you see."

"Not really, what about abstract pictures? " The volunteer said. At her confused expression he asked "Do you know what abstract paintings are?" She shook her head. "Oh, well their pictures of a person or a place or an object that doesn't look like it actually does, and some of the best artist in history have had issues, take Edward Munch he painted _the scream_ in the middle of nervous break down. Or what about Yayoi Kusama she had hallucinations like to you."

"Really? How do you know about them?" She asked, no one had ever told her about artist like them. But then again they rarely took her into consideration and just tried to stuff drugs down her throat.

" My sister is taking an Art history degree, so every time we talk she seems to only discuss artists. Makes for boring conversation but anyway, when we go to do those drawings why don't you just paint what _you_ see, might be easier that way." He said kindly. "Oh by the way, my name is Max Pennit, What's your name?"

"Brigitte Reyes, Sir-"

"Max, sir makes me sound like the old coot," He said giving her a grin.

"Max, why are you helping out here, I mean you seem nice and all but you don't look young enough to be a student,"

"Can you keep a secret?" He asked looking around a little. Though there was a twinkle of humour in his eyes, as he pulled out a thick script and numerous other pieces of paper.

"No one is likely to believe me so yeah," Brigitte asked confused and intrigued.

"I'm actually part of a movie, you heard of running wild?" He asked.

"Who hasn't? Everyone's talking about it, despite the fact it will be another 2 years before it hits the cinema, its that movie that all the actors are gushing about, some big wig director is doing it right?" She said a little shocked. "So are you doing research?"

"Yeah, my character is this teacher who teaches at a school for gifted children. There he meet this little boy whose a prodigy at classical but has a genius potential at rock and pop. However he has bullying problems because he can't seem to fit in with his classmates. The teacher takes him under his wing and gets him interested in rock, its like a Mozart to Elvis kind of story. The directors really annoyed though because he can't find a kid good enough, which is kind of harsh since he wants a kid who can play multiple instruments so when they play it's actually them but he also wants them to be able to behave on site." Brigitte sniggered at this. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"If it was a girl and not a boy, I'd ask to audition myself," She said sill sniggering into her palm.

"oh really? You play an instrument?" He inquired.

"Instruments," She said."As in plural, I mainly play flute, piano and violin but a bit of guitar, drum and voice, I even brought my flute with me."

"Really, lets hear then." he asked, a ball of excitement growing in his stomach. This film could be huge for him, but it relied heavily in who played his respective character. The girl had all the characteristics that she wouldn't even have to act to preform the role well.

"What now?" She asked completely thrown.

"Yeah, you said you have it on you so lets hear!" Max said happily as he started rifling through her bag until he triumphantly pulled out the case for her flute.

"We're in the middle of a bus?" She said staring at him in bewilderment " And people say I'm crazy, plus even if I am musically gifted enough how do you know if I can act,"

"But you act all the time, you pretend you don't see what you do and I saw you being cordial to the pink toad, that takes a lot of acting trust me," frowning as he thought of the irritating stick woman who had greeted him at the school's reception and treated him like a imbecile, if he hadn't had to look into her beady _blue _eyes and the woman's stick thin figure he would have sworn that it was Umbridge back to haunt him.

"Pink toad! Okay for that I'll play for you." She said laughing at the comical image he'd painted for her. Once she had calmed down sufficiently, she set up her flute and began to play.

Max had heard a lot things in his 25 years, from toad orchestras, to goblin symphonies (which sounded remarkably similar to his first year of violin lessons, which were never continued) but the music that spilled from Brigitte's Flute was the most beautiful thing Max had ever listened to.

The entire bus actually fell silent to listen to the haunting tune that Brigitte was playing, which is no mean feat. Max could _feel_ the anguish and pain behind the song, and felt the tears swelling in his eyes.

Soon afterwards the song finished and the noise level in the bus returned to normal (I.e. they sounded like a pack of howling monkeys) and Brigitte packed the flute back into its case.

"You have to audition." Max said his chocolate brown eyes piercing her own. "And if you don't I'll assign you to the pink toad," putting heavy emphasis on Pink.

Brigitte shuddered. "I'm sorry but I can't act,"

"UGH! Please, if you don't I'm going to have to put up with one of those snotty child star brats," he said whining now.

"You poor thing, being paid millions to act alongside good actors oh you poor dear,"

"I feel like your mocking me, are you mocking me?"

"Me? Never!" Brigitte said feigning innocence.

"I think, tell me if I'm wrong, that you're being sarcastic..." Brigitte's reply was an expert eye roll, making the answer abundantly clear.

With a screeching halt their conversation finished as the bus came to a shuddering halt outside a huge art gallery. It wasn't the... prettiest of buildings, in fact it looked almost identical to Hadrian, with grey ageing walls, with different forms of moss growing on the edges and bases of the walls.

A pit of fear began to grow in Brigitte's stomach, the familiar feeling of dread was brewing deep and heavy, and then the colours snapped. Shooting out of each person was a glowing ribbon that twisted and spun in multiple directions. She saw her own ribbon (a forest green with an icon of a bird fluttering on and around it) tie itself in knots around Max's golden ribbon (who had a happy dog chasing its tail). A third ribbon (red and silver with a small, but strange, lion/hawk creature that was constantly falling over its own...claws?) . A fourth final ribbon (a silvery grey with a cat icon peaceably cleaning itself) was hurtling north, back in the direction they had travelled from.

Brigitte staggered under the assault and gripped her head, curling herself up and and a pain that she had never experienced with her hallucination. Max was shocked to say the least, one minute she was laughing and joking, now she was moaning on the ground crying to herself and no one seemed to give a dam.

"Hey look the freaks going into another melt down," an unnamed boy shouted from the back of the bus. Another voice piped in with a "How long do you think this one will last?" bets were being set and Max was looking round with growing horror. Not one of the teachers had tried to address the problem.

"So why are you sitting with the freak?" A girl who very closely resembled a raccoon said.

"Excuse me?" Max asked with growing fury.

"Why... are...you..sitting...with...the...freak?" She asked stretching out each word. This random teen now sat level with Dolores Umbridge in Max's most hated individuals. "I mean she's crazy, the last time this happened they had to punch her to stop her screaming," Most undesirable number 2 sniggered.

With that statement, Max's anger peaked. He stood up quickly alarming MUN 2 as she caught a look at his enraged expression. The scene before him mirrored his years at Hogwarts too close for comfort. He picked up the crying Brigitte (along with her bag) and walked straight off the bus and started hailing a taxi.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Shrieked Miss Garage. The irritating volunteer was going against every rule in his book and hers. There was also the little issue of the poison that was obviously surging through her system.

It was the screech that told Max exactly who "miss Garage" was. And he was going to make her squirm. "Thank you for this wonderful experience Miss _Um_bridge, I have learnt a lot today." giving her a charming smile as the taxi pulled up.

The moment they were 5 meters away from them e faced the window and flipped Miss Umbridge the birdie. "Where's the nearest hospital?" he asked the alarmed taxis driver.

"St croix, you're brother mate?" The worried taxi driver asked. The girl who was curled in his lap was sobbing for pete's sake.

"No, but she needs to get to hospital, the fucked buggars were doing nothing to help her, not even a stupid pain killer." Max was so angry he had broken his usual rule of no swearing. The Taxi driver seemed angry as well now.

"Why weren't they doing som'thin?" He asked incredulously.

"She has hallucinations, it wasn't worth the flipping hassle,"

"WHAT?!" The driver said as he hit his foot to the accelerator and sped up, swerving and avoiding the honking cars and taking the quickest route to the hospital. "The shitty bastards, I had a special needs sister," he told his client. "Sweetest thing you could come across, always want'n to help you know. Didn' have a bad bone in her body, died 3 years back."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Max said respectfully.

"Eh don't be, she passed happy that's all that matters, here we are sir," The taxi driver said drawing up outside a huge hospital. "Now you make sure she's been taken care of here! Or I'll be coming for ya, got it."

"Aye sir!" Max said saluting the best he could with Brigitte still hanging limply in his arms. Quickly dashing off into the hospital. There he quickly hailed the attention of a passing nurse, who in turn, had her immediately seen to after hearing the unique qualities of the unconscious girl he was holding.

After 25 minutes of patient waiting Max was rewarded by the sight of a doctor striding purposefully towards him. "Max Pennit?"

"Yes sir, is she okay?" Max said standing up to address the doctor.

"Come with me," The doctor said after staring at him for a few minutes, leading him through a series of near identical corridors. "This way please sir," The doctor repeated moving swiftly until he reached a white door with several bird stickers attached to the window. He gestured impatiently for Max to sit down before taking a seat behind the neatly organised desk.

"Mr Pennit, I'm going to cut straight to the chase here, but were you ever a student at Hogwarts?" He asked, keen eyes boring into Max.

"Yes Dr Bones?" Max said shocked slightly when he recognised the name. Madame Bones had recently taken the title as the DMLE head, was he a relation? He had to have some kind of link if he knew about Hogwarts, but why would he be working at a muggle hospital?

"Good, that makes things much easier, "

"Why would it make it any easier Dr Bones? Is there something wrong, as far as I'm aware Brigitte is a muggle,"

"That's not strictly true Mr Pennit, whilst Miss Reyes has no active wand magic, I believe she has a very powerful strain of passive magic,"

"Passive? If that was passive what pray tell is aggressive magic?" Incredulity integrating into his speech unintentionally.

"The dark arts sir," The doctor replied tartly. "And yes you are right in saying the results were anything but passive but the source of such a severe reaction is confusing me and my colleges."

"Colleges? Wait how many of the staff working here know of magic?"

"Only around a tenth though we have one healer in each department who willb intervene when necessary. We are on loan you could say, by St Mungos. But my colleges or my situation is not of relevance at the moment, no the best assumption I was able to deduce was that she was reacting to a bad combination of magic and muggle medicine in her blood. Do you have any idea what kind of treatment she was taking? It could go a long way in helping her,"

"Not much, actually she said something about weird medication, its in her bag I think." Max said after a moments hesitation and was sorting through her things until he came across the bottle she had shown him earlier. The Doctors eyes widened when he saw the bottle.

It was liquid Nightshade, it was a rare and very expensive potion ingredient. A drop of Nightshade was used in a calming draught and other potions occasionally. But in the concentration of which it seemed to be here would be lethal to anyone let alone a passive magic use whose mind functioned with such high activity levels.

"Oh Merlin, Nightshade, SHITE!" Dr Bones stood up quickly and rushed back over to the ward where he had left a medic-witch to help the (at the time) screaming eight yea old. Once he arrived he immediately had her put on a gurney and evacuated from the ward. They had her in transition to St mungo's arranged in minutes with a terrified Max trailed just behind them as they talked very fast using a bunch of medical jargon. He had, however caught the word Nightshade being repeated over and over again. It was obvious something was terrifying the doctor, that much he could discern.

"What's happening?" He asked one of the accompanying witches.

"That medication you showed us is a vial of pure nightshade. It is used to calm the mind in small doses, but Miss Brigitte has consumed high quantities of Nightshade and it is currently destroying her mind," The stout woman told the now terrified young man. "As a user of passive magic, the mind would be Miss Brigitte's magical core's location. If she is not recovered very soon there is every chance that she will either die or slip into a coma which no one will be able to help,"

With the need for speed established, Max took out his wand and swiftly apparated out of the hospital along with the staff and Brigitte. The shock on some of the nurses would have been comical in any other situation, but upon recovering himself Dr Bones instantly had most of the emergency ward working upon the pained child, filling her with combinations f spells and complex spells which would continue for long time coming it seemed.

**2 months later**

Max had been told, in no uncertain terms that his continued presence at St Mungo's was no longer required. This remark had been stated after he had turned up for the 5th day in a row after Brigitte admittance. Whilst the staff on duty had questioned his multi apparation spell Max had successfully waved off any further questioning. After receiving the news that she was stabilized and would be in recovery within a few more weeks Max felt comfortable enough to leave and visit his Aunt with a long overdue visit.

Creek Cottage was what Max considered his home away from home, whilst his mother no longer shared much of a relationship with Aunty Minnie, Max's years in Hogwarts allowed for a close bond which had continued after graduation. Max tended to visit his aunt mainly during the school holidays – her position as a overworked teacher often got in the way of more regular visits and with the events that had transpired he felt his aunts advice would be a very welcome, all things considered. When he arrived he knocked smartly on the door and awaited an answer.

Minerva was quite perplexed when she heard the knock on her front door. Very few knew of her homes location and she had purposefully masked it of all magic, very few knew of it location bar... It couldn't be could it? She rushed to the door and smiled with joy when she saw the grinning face of her nephew. "Max!" She cried bringing the boy (or rather man though this fact always seemed to allude her when they met) into a bone crushing hug.

"Easy aunty Minnie I still need to breathe," he joked, it amazed him every time he visited it seemed that her hugs grew more and more like a boa constrictor – though intent to kill was missing in said squeeze.

"Come in, Do you want a drink?" The ecstatic teacher asked.

"A Butterbeer if you would," Max said as polite as ever.

"Still can't handle your drinks, can you?" Minerva said as she walked into the adjoined kitchen.

"Well I've told you before that I am very sorry that I didn't inherit the ability to consume vast quantities of alcohol like you or Ma,"

"Humph, and you call yourself Scottish." Minerva said as she poured both herself and Max a liberal glass of Butterbeer. "Now what brings ya' here? You don't usually visit me till the end of the Holiday, not the start."

"Ahhhh," Max said suddenly looking much older as he ran his hand through his chocolate hair haphazardly, his impish grin no longer present. "All I say is that I'm going to win a bloody Oscar even if the kids shite,"

"Language," Minerva said sharply – the faint echoes of teacher mode still functioning within her. "This is the one about that music school right? You're a teacher, right?"

"yeah, thing is the kid in Movie takes an overdose after some jealous ba- idiot, drugged his drink, I always knew the part was tough so I went and organised to do so hands on experience with troubled kids and met Brigitte,"

"Brigitte?" Curious now.

"Aye, Brigitte Reyes – sweetest thing I have ever come across – she's got issues I'm not denying that but she didn't deserve that bitch being on her tail,"

"Language, who was on her tail?"

"Umbridge, the girls a passive witch, muggle born though so knowing her they way I, unfortunately, do I wouldn't put it past her to do it."

"That really doesn't help me Max, you know how much I hate it when you do this irritating game, now what happened to this Brigitte and why has it peeved you off so much." Minerva said, lecturing the boy a little.

"She gave her an overdose of nightshade despite knowing she uses passive magic." He told her bluntly. "Its a damn miracle that she's recovering at all."

"WHAT?!" Minerva shrieked dropping her glass and not paying a mind to the growing stain oh her carpet. "Oh this is to perfect!" She said laughing loudly – almost maniacally. "Max how would you like to help me ruin Miss Umbridge's budding career ay?" Her eyes glinting like a magpie.

"Aunty Minnie have I ever told you how awe inspiring you are?"

"No but feel free to remind me when we ave Miss Umbridge locked away in Azkban."

"Yes, quite but how is it perfect actually – pink toad's got a lot of pureblood contacts, she won't get a fair trial."

"Max are you aware of the magical line that your grandmother was from?" Minerva asked, and after receiving a negative from her nephew continued with a "Thought not, you see the Gallicks – that was her maiden name – where protectors of the muggle Celtic, well priestesses as such, back when magic was known. These priestesses were actually users of passive magic and were able to warn their leaders of coming dangers by reading the ties of fate and yes they d exist." Silencing the question that had been on the tip of Max's tongue Now picture this, a passive magic user – the likes of which were thought to have died out in the 15th century is poisoned in the presence of said blood guard. For poisoning her alone she's looking at vertiusim but doing it in front of you is saying she refutes the blood line and is challenging our line, now do you see where I am going?"

"She'll be driven into a corner by her own beliefs," He said his voice hushed by awe.

"Precisely, now I have a - what did you call her? A pink toad to french-if-fy," snickering at her bad joke. "Now, are you coming?" Minerva asked the happiest she had been in years, the horrific Ministry official irritated her more then the travesty that was Hogwarts Divination professor.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Max said jumping up like a child on Christmas day. He was so showing this memory to Brigitte, repeating the multi apparition spell his aunt helped him create.


	4. Chapter 3 Breaking Free

**Chapter 3 Breaking free – 1985**

"No please stop, stop, stop leave him alone, he hasn't... no, no NO!" Brigitte screamed. With a loud bang the door to her bedroom swung opened and Max rushed through, collecting the terrified girl into a comforting hug. Brigitte in turn threw herself at him and sobbed pitifully into his arms.

"Shush, shush its okay, its not you okay darling, come on Brigitte its okay," He said rubbing the small of her back in calming circles. It was the third night in a row she had woken screaming. Each night was a similar dream, a little boy starving, darkness swallowing the boy up. Each night revealed a new detail about the boy. On the first all she could remember was his size and the small space he was enclosed in. The second night revealed his hair colour and an average suburb. Each night Max had asked who he was and each night she had revealed a new name – though not the identity of the boy. He almost had enough information to find what was causing her dreams but it was sill frustrating inconclusive.

"Hey what happened, Brigitte?" He asked his foster daughter (soon to be adopted daughter) once she had calmed down enough. Through his own personal research and his aunts teachings, Max was now well aware that the dreams she had were actually visions that told her of past or current events that were linked to her.

"Oh Max, it was awful," the sobbing girl told him. "They kept on kicking him and punching ..and and they made him BLEED!" With that she began her descent into hysterics again.

"Hey, its okay, it's okay, now who was being hurt?" The dreams he realised, were remembered better straight afterwards and if they wanted to help the kid they had to hurry.

"Harry Potter, 4 privit drive, please tell them tell them, I don't think... he needs help!" She sobbed, Max carefully lifted her tiny form into his arms nd carried her through to the living room and picking the phone up from its cradle and dialling the numbers he had craved to call for days.

"Hello Child services how may I help you?" a female voice said as it answered the call.

"Yes I'd like to report a possible child abuse at 4 privit drive, parson hill, Surrey."

"Sir its 10 o'clock at night, why are you calling now?" The woman asked skepticism evident in her tone.

"Because I can hear a kid screaming that why!?" Infuriated by the woman's disbelief, "And I'm here because I'm walking my damn dog if you must know!"

The woman went quiet and just beyond the speaker he could hear the woman calling for her superior. He swore to himself and waited impatiently.

"Sir we're sending a escort team to the location they should be there in 15 minutes, what are you currently wearing?" The new voice asked.

Max quickly took the wand out form his pyjama pockets and transfigure it into a red hoodie with the words Racer printed across the back in white and a pair of grey joggers and trainers on his feet. He repeated his description to the muggle operator and quickly shut the phone.

He quickly transfigured a near by pillow into a small boarder collie. Turning to Brigitte he told her "Brigitte I'm going to have to go, you need to promise to stay here okay? I'm going to have to take you to Miss D okay?"

"The nice witch lady who gave me cauldron cakes?" She asked in a timid recalling the nice lady who had sold them the apartment they now lived in.

"Yes, now lets go," He quickly apparated directly into the shocked landladies bedroom awaking the widow from a pleasant dream.

"What's going... Max? What the dicken's?" She satrted only to have Brigitte shoved into her arm and a rushed "Sorry I need you to look after her, will explain later before he disappeared again.

"Well, lets get you a hot chocolate and you explain this whole mess to me?" The bewildered Miss D told the wide awake Brigitte.

On Max's end he was relieved to realise that he had arrived before the escort and waited a further 5 minutes before seeing the red and blue flashes that indicated the police had arrived. He waved madly attracting the escorts attention who recognised him from the description.

"Sir is this the house?" He asked the young man.

"Yes, I heard the screaming as I was running past but it stopped soon afterwards I don't know..." He told the officers putting his improv skills to the test.

The police officer nodded and had his men knock loudly on the door. They threw rocks at the window but when that was ignored the police present choose a more extreme measure. The officer in charge of the operation had a gut feeling about the call and so far he'd yet to be proven wrong so he gave the all clear for the door to be forced down.

The lights in the other houses on the streets began to flicker on as the police battered down the door. As they flooded the house the furious form of Vernon Dursley stormed down the stair. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!" He roared.

"Settle down sir, or we'll settle you down ourselves, we just had a call saying they heard a child screaming." With this announcement Vernon grew much paler. They couldn't know, he shut up, they can't know about the freak!

"You've got the wrong house," He stuttered out, "Must be the neighbours they like to watch those horror movie's and-" Vernon was cut off by the furious roar of Max shouting.

"Kids do not scream like that!" distracting Vernon suitably giving the others a chance to look around. Vernon, as Max anticipated the began an argument with him giving two police officers the ability to sneak upstairs and see the crying Dudley Dursley being cuddled by Petunia Dursley – who shrieked when the officers opened the door. They swiftly backed out after a designer heel was chucked at them

A large portion of the force sent to 4 prvit drive was restraining Vernon and didn't spot the pool of crimson blood slipping out from under the cupboard door, in fact it wasn't until one policeman, a rookie, stepped in this growing puddle that they actually noticed.

"Sir!" The rookie shouted, horrified. The lead officer turned around and saw the blood that dripped from the rookies shoe, and swore. Within seconds the cupboard door was opened and the officers were greeted to the sight of the gagged and bleeding 5 year old who also inhabited 4 privit drive. Ruby red liquid swelled from his leg and he was loosing blood fast. He held a pained grip around his ribs and a nasty assortments of bruises were just visible under his elephant sized clothes. Wide emerald eyes starred out with fear and a fury like no other ripped through the rookie who promptly turned on his heel and punched Vernon squarely in the jaw, making the man's eyes loll in in his head before collapsing in a heap of flesh. Not one of those present complained.

When the ambulance had finally arrived, Max watched in shock as the boy was carried out of the house on a stretcher, right past him; and saw the lighting bolt scar that the famed boy-who-lived was said to posses. Truth be told, Max knew he was reacting to heavily to the little boy and hoped they would simply put it down as horror at his wounds.

"Is that...?" Max asked horrified.

"Yes sir, I'm going t need you to come with me, we can have one of the boys take your dog," taking the leash wrapped around the shell shocked man's arm, which seemed to rouse him a bit.

"No that's okay, is it possible for us to do it now? My daughter's probably getting worried," Max inquired.

"I don't see why not, see the woman with the clipboard over there? She'll take your statement and then you can be on your way." He told him, he wanted to wrap up the loose ends, he had his own family to return to and the reason he was here did not sit well with him.

Max simply nodded in return and went over to the woman he was instructed to and left his statement and number before walking back down the street dog/cushion in tow.


	5. Chapter 4 The Future

**Chapter 4 the future**

"What's going to happen to me?" Harry asked the nice nurse lady that had been taking care of him for the past three weeks.

"Well, your all patched up now so, I believe your going to meet your new foster father and we'll go from there." The nurse told him as she gently checked over him one more time before ruffling his hair a bit. Hillary could still vividly recall Harry's rushed arrival as if it was yesterday. She had been one of the few nurses who had been on duty that night and had looked on in horror as the badly beaten boy was wheeled past her. The following morning she had been assigned to watch over the boy and had been horrified to discover the extent of abuse the adorable boy had suffered through. How anyone could hurt a child like Harry was beyond her. He was incredibly polite and so sweet, it made her teeth ache. There had a been a few odd moments during his weeks in the hospital but... oh it was pointless contemplating it, Harry was safe and the monsters who had administrated such cruelties were in court and soon jail.

"Whats he like? Is he nice?" Harry asked, his voice quiet with nerves.

"Yes Harry," She told him giving the boy a hug, "Mr Pennit is very nice, in fact he was the one who helped get you away from them." They tried to never mention the Dursley's around Harry and if they did it was always _them _or _the bad people. _"Mr Pennit even comes with a personal recommendation from my boss. Apparently about a year ago he took in a little girl, a few years older than you, and turned her life around." She said still squeezing the boy softly. It was strange thing about Harry, he both craved and ran from touch – an aversion that probably stemmed from the regular beatings he had received. As such the staff at the hospital took every opportunity to reinforce the idea that touch wasn't necessarily bad, though it would probably be many years before he was comfortable enough with it again not to shiver ever so slightly.

"Now, its 8 o'clock so I say its about time we turn the lights out and you go to sleep okay? You'll meet Mr Pennit sooner if you fall asleep," She said smiling at the excited grin that it up on his face as he buried himself under the covers.

"m'kay, night, night see you in the...awh...morning," He told her as his eyes closed drowsily and a wide yawn revealed how tired the boy actually was.

"Good night Harry," Hillary said shutting the door on the dreaming Harry.

"Wake up Harry, wake up." a soft voice said gently shaking Harry awake. She was far nicer than aunt petunia Harry contemplated as he slowly stirred and take in the world around him. With a start he realized the date and with an excited yelp shot out of bed, then winced when one of his bandages were caught. "Easy Harry, he's not going anywhere, in fact he's only just arrived.

"Sorry Nurse Hillary," Harry said sheepishly as he, slowly this time, removed himself from his covers and went over to change into the shorts and polo top he had been provided, careful not to touch the bandages wrapped around his ribs and his leg.

"Easy there Harry he isn't going to run away," Then when he got his polo top stuck o his head Hillary gave an exasperated sigh " Hang on, you look like the headless huntsmen, stay still," she said tugging the polo top down. His already unmanageable locks were even worse then they usually were now resembling multi-point horns. "Oh harry," She said as she sighed in defeat, truly there was no hope in trying to control his hair.

"Sorry Nurse Hillary, but you know my hair has its own mind – and its kind of bossy," He said impishly, the five year old Nurse Hillary discovered, had a wild sense of humor. He had recently teamed up with one of the nurses to set up a series of elaborate pranks that were still in motion, on various members of staff and before that he had staged several of his own pranks, which she thankfully seemed to have immunity from.

"Can we go now?" Harry said, with what could only be described as a puppy dog eyes.

"Of course, now he's in the third waiting room, do you remember where that is?" She said, not immune to the boys adorable charms.

"Yeah!" He shouted rushing out the door, with all the boundless energy he had. He skidded in the hallways and arrived with a bang at the door, but stopped short of opening it. A bundle of nerves had taken refuge in his stomach and suddenly he was nervous. He could make out through the blurred glass a tall man, talking animatedly with a girl maybe two or three years older than him. She must be his daughter, Harry realized and the man Max Pennit, his possible foster father. He felt the reassuring wait of Nurse Hillary holding his shoulders as the door opened and he steeled his stomach and watched as it opened.

The first thing Harry noticed was how young Max Pennit looked, he had chocolaty brown hair and matching twinkling eyes that looked like they should be in a teens body rather than the impressive 6ft 3 frame that Max had. He also had what others referred to as a 'baby-face' that lit up when he saw Harry, his dimples made all the more obvious by his movie star grin.

"Hi Harry, My names Max, nice to meet you." He said, Harry found his voice strangely comforting, the Scottish lilt reminding him of a far off memory that was just out of reach.

"Hello sir," he said timidly, ducking behind Nurse Hillary, using her as a shield.

"dear lord, what is with this generation? Why is it every time I introduce myself as Max they insist on calling me sir?" Max said throwing his hands into the air, over exaggerating for comedic effect. "Its a travesty miss, I'm telling you, in my day -"

"In your day, hair was used to display height and colour madness – the more you wore the less crazy you were," the cheeky voice peeped up, surprising Harry. Max's daughter was very pretty but he recognised a kindred spirit in the mischievous glint that sparkled in her remarkably similar jade eyes. Harry giggled at her joke which caused her to grin wider.

"My names Brigitte, ignore papa – I think _his_ mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby." Brigitte said pointing to the outraged (but not really) Max.

"Madam, your supposed to stop abuse and its happening before your eyes – stop her!" He cried turning to the smartly dressed woman in the corner who was jotting notes down in the corner. Her reply was to simply raise her eyebrow and completely ignore him.

"oooh, you just got burned." Brigitte told Harry, making him giggle again and let go of Nurse Hillary.

"Its a conspiracy, they're all against me! Harry, please defend me!" Max said, pouting to Harry, who laughed even harder at the man's request. "Fine, no ice cream for you!"

Both children immediately rushed forward and tried to 'comfort' the 'sulking' Max. Nurse Hillary smiled at the sight. The Pennit's were just what Harry needed – love, close family bonds and understanding. The social worker in the background was also nodding approvingly, especially towards the end of the meeting where the three of them were involved in 'serious' game of monopoly that Harry was trouncing them at. She had talked to Brigitte earlier that morning and knew that she would probably love Harry just as much as he would in return. Yes, Max Pennit was the perfect foser parent for both troubled children. He was the right mix of childish personality and adult authority that meant both damaged children responded so positively – add on the millions of pounds he had stacked away from a series of highly successful investments and one could say the Max was the miracle foster parent that child services prayed for daily.

Time seemed to pass faster I that waiting room and the clock that had pointed 10o'clock when they had first arrived now pointed at 7 o'clock, in what had felt like barely an hour.

"Now Harry, Mr Pennit and few people need to talk so can I trust you and Miss Brigitte to stay here for a little bit? We'll be just outside," Nurse Hillary told the happily occupied children who were in an in-depth discussion about a TV show both of them liked. She wasn't sure they had even heard her request and the adults left the room quietly, without much attention.

"So can you take him? I know you agreed in our initial request but now you've met him, are you still willing to take him on?" The social worker had asked the moment the door had shut behind them.

"I'd love, Brigitte loves him that much is obvious and he doesn't seem like he'd be any trouble, not that I won't take him on if he has other issues, " Max had hastened to add, worried he had in some way offended the hilarious boy. "In fact I think I'd go as far as request a possible adoption, I legally adopted Brigitte last week and it looks like I'll be moving to the states in another couple of months."

"A fresh start will be excellent for Mr Potter I think, and considering your success with Miss Reyes I can't think of any reason they would deny your application for Harry, though they may get a bit fidgety if they find out your moving so I'd prepare for the question, so get information on the school they'll be going to, the neighbourhood that kind of thing,"

"That would be great, also hows the court appeal?" Max said referring to the disgusting people known as the Dursleys.

"Well unfortunately we could only nail Mr Dursley for child abuse and Neglect, there was no proof that Mrs Dursley was partaking in the attacks but they've lost custody of their son who is currently attending a boot camp, what's the polite way of putting it? Privileged brats we'll call it. Mr dursley's never going to find steady work above a simple accountant and even then it'll be hard." She told him.

"And when can I take Harry home?" Max asked running through the jobs he'd need to finish in preparation. Work took up a large portion of his time and it was only because Brigitte was preforming the music score for the movie that she was allowed on set so it might irritate the director if he brought another kid with him. "I finish filming this week, so it would probably be easier if I take him in after then," He told the social worker, quickly contemplating his schedule . "But I can visit most afternoons before then, most of the filming in the morning," Max explained.

"A week from today would be perfect Mr Pennit," Nurse Hillary spoke up, "His injury's are nearly completely healed but a week for extra testing and my own personal peace of mind would be perfect if you're at all worried on a medical front,"

"Hmm, I think that could work though I can't promise anything, what with all the backed up paperwork, but I can try to push it through."

"Thank you, well we better be going its almost Brigitte's bedtime and the same must apply for Harry." Max said smiling happily, things were going swimmingly. Not only did Brigitte gain a little brother and him a son, Aunty Minnie could stop fretting about her old students son. Though it did confuse him a bit that she had never gone to visit Harry herself. She had a good enough working knowledge of the muggle world through him that she'd be able to get to Privit drive without having to call, he'd ask her about it when he went up with them before they moved – though maybe informing her before arriving at her doorstep might be a better plan of action. Oh and he'd have to find away of dropping the whole magic is real bomb... ah the beauty of that dratted secrecy law (though he did understand the need, the laws enforcement seemed a bit flawed in his opinion).

"Well the lets get everyone going then, shall we?" The social worker said as they opened the door were they were greeted by the adorable picture that was the fast asleep children. Brigitte had one arm wrapped around Harry and he in turn had his head laid gently on her chest. Max put a finger to his lips and took a camera out of his rucksack that he had left in the playroom and taking a quick snap before gently picking Harry up and handing him to the cooing Hillary. After putting Harry in the safe hands of Nurse Hillary he bent down and picked up the stirring Brigitte and putting her head to his neck, gently rocking her as they left. He'd send the picture, along with the letter, to Aunty Minnie, that would soften her up a bit.


	6. Chapter 5 Moving In

**Chapter 5 Moving in **

"Now I know its a little cramped but it'll do until we move to L.A," Max said as he opened the door to a, admittedly small, but well furnished room. The room had a queen sized bed at its center with a funny football cartoon along the base and matching pillows. A large window gave a great view of the city, which Harry immediately ran to. The boy had no qualm with heights it seemed, and he really wanted to introduce Harry to Brooms sooner rather than later – of course they'd have to wait until they moved to do that since he didn't want to bring Harry to any major wizarding locations in Britain, that was a recipe for disaster.

Harry had taken to the whole "magic is real" discussion relatively well with only around 5 minutes of mind numbing shock on his part before he stood up and shouted "COOL!" at the top of his lungs, disturbing a paint covered Brigitte during her private art lesson. When she found out why he was so excited, she spent no time waiting before bragging about her own passive magic and how it was "soooo much more useful than stick magic," which had started a lighthearted sibling argument on whose magic was better than whose. This argument was quickly terminated after Max tickled bot of them saying _his awesomeness_ out did both types of magic. Equally his letter to aunty Minnie had come back with a simple letter (rather than the expected Howler) and a demand for pictures (magical and non-magical). The picture of Brigitte & Harry on that first meeting had gone down especially well and sat in the place of pride on her school desk. Though she had altered Harry's scar so to any of the curious students, the two children were simply her nephews, new adopted son and daughter.

Harry and Brigitte had also become very close each defending the other whenever someone dared to insult any member of their, albeit odd, family. They had gone and visited Aunty Minnie, much to her joy. Harry and Minnie got along splendidly, which was even better as it meant he was able to trust adults outside of his little ring. Miss D absolutely adored him and was constantly spoiling him with sweets and affection; In fact she adored both children so much she had even had discussions about joining them out in L.A as their housekeeper/nanny whenever Max had to go away for filming.

Their move, however had faced a few set set-backs. Whilst Harry's foster request had gone in and been approved in only a few weeks, his adoption request was still in the works and Max's deep _deep __**deep**_ hatred of most magical travel (brooms, carriages and magical creatures included) other than his own multi-apparition spell which could not travel the distances required, they had been unable to scout out a school or a home – which Brigitte theorized was part of the problem. So after much convincing - and threatening on aunty Minnie's part – Max had agreed to take an international portkey to L.A and find them all o the important necessities. The portkey Miss D and Brigitte had designed would only reactivate if four condition were met:

He picked out a home and neighborhood of which he had the deeds signed and the bank was just processing the purchase.

He had picked out an adequate school that both Brigitte and Harry could attend – with a special arts program for Brigitte.

Buy a suitable car or vehicle

If he explored the magical community there and look into hiring tutors or some form of magical schooling when they moved over (they hadn't dared hire anyone bar a muggle tutor due to Harry's _fandom_)

All of which, if the prospect of a portkey travel wasn't making Max feel so unreasonable, would be very important once they crossed over. So with a heavy heart (and stomach) Max gathered his bags which had been personally packed by Miss D and after eating a wonderful lunch, gripped the tin can that would yank him across several continents and an ocean.

The moment Max touched down in the portkey waiting room of he ran faster than he veer did before to a nearby bucket which he promptly threw up his lunch, breakfast and dinner of the previous night, much to the on duty clerks amusement. "Hello sir are you okay?" He asked, his Californian accent alerting Max to his current location – though the patriotic flag above his head had also reinforced this notion.

"Yeah," Max said, still green in the gills "Give me a moment, ugh, god I hate portkey, allowing his stomach to settle before accepting the clerks outstretched hand. "Now, has the car I ordered arrived? I ordered it under the name Simon Smith" He asked.

"Yes, sir we were informed of your... requirements." The clerk said, trying to be delicate about the interesting colours he was, but failing miserably, if the death stare he received and the quiet mutterings of "show off" and "Just cause he doesn't loose his stomach" were anything to go by. "The car is waiting for you in row DA 44, it's a red Toyota. Oh and sir, there is a man from Aliant offices waiting for you near it,"

"Thank you, have a nice day," He replied, in a very unhappy tone. Ten minutes of walking and Max finally arrived at required location and spotted a man in a suit jacket, casual white shirt paired with distressed jeans – this must be the man from Aliant offices.

"Jake Garret, Sam smith, I'm guessing?" He asked, his Brooklyn accent twisting his words ever so slightly (though much like Max's own Scottish accent it was barely there). Max wondered how long it would take for him to realize he wasn't Sam Smith but let it go.

"That be me," Max said, he was slowly regaining colour and motor control of his body – a fact that did not pass Jake by.

"Nasty port key?" He remarked.

"Portkey in general," was Max's terse reply, Jake grinned in return.

"Well, why don't I drive then?" He said taking the keys from the sluggish Max. They both climbed into the car and started the ignition. The car purred to life and they were off. "So what brings you across the pound?" He asked curious. In his experience, most of the British Wizards who had the money to buy in America all had sticks lodged do far up their butts it was difficult to understand how they moved at all.

"Acting, we want to be close to things you know," Max told the genuinely nice American.

"whoa, that's a tough business to be getting into," He began to worry a little bit. The houses he had planned out were all pretty pricey and he was worried that he'd not be able to afford the houses he had picked out from the brief.

"All ready in if your worried, got a main role and it premiers next month." he said unthinkingly.

"My god, you're that teacher guy who all the critics are raving about, right? Damn, can't believe I didn't recognise you, my boss is constantly drooling over you and you're on billboards for Christ sake, man I must be tired. Man is she going to be jealous." He said grinning. Max simply rolled his eyes.

"So what are the places you lined up for me?" He asked, actually curious now. Before it had been kind of like a far off story, now he was actually here he knew he was going to have to pick carefully.

"Well I've got three neighbourhoods lined up, one that's purely muggle but very safe, one that's just wizards though its mainly holiday homes for wizards abroad and then my personal favourite the mixed community. It's mostly non-magical in the majority, but there's a high concentration of wizarding families of the area living there." He told Max as he drove through the hoard of cars already on the road in the early hours.

"Skip the wizarding neighbourhood, I want there to be kids for them to hang out with so a holiday neighbourhood isn't that great. Which is closest?" He asked.

"You've got two right? And its the muggle neighbourhood closest." He said as they slowed down in front of a red light. Max nodded and pulled out one of his favourite pictures. It was Harry and Brigitte on a trip to the moors when visiting Aunty Minnie. It had been a gorgeous day and both of them were grinning into the camera, there matching iridescent green eyes burning out of the picture. "Aww, there adorable – though they don't look alike, except for the eyes of course,"

"They're adopted," Max explained, "None of us are blood related but we're as good as. By the way is there any form of magic tutoring?" He asked.

"Yeah, but the best ones are the kids who are back for the holidays and it's easier to find them if your living in a magic neighbourhood. Why are you bothering with the muggle one then?"

"There less likely to search for the kids in a muggle neighbourhood, is the theory," At Jakes puzzled look he continued with "Both the kids are a bit of a target, you know that dark lord that was scaring the British wizards about 6 years ago, well Harry – the black hair boy, survived an attack from him and Voldemort died at the same time, no ones really sure what happened but the wizarding populations got it into their heads that Harry's either their saviour or the next Dark lord, ridiculous right?"

"No kidding, they gave that hyphen title right, what was it again oh yeah the boy-who-lived right? And what about the other, another victim of circumstance?"

"No, Brigitte uses Passive magic and as she's considered a muggle born, there's a lot of people – mostly old followers of Voldemort who'd believe she was a stain on blood purity. At the same time there's a few who think that they have the right to kidnap her and force her to bear their blood lines heirs – because of the whole Merlin was the son of a passive thing."

"Ouch! I'd hate to be in your boat, we could get the place warded if you want – you'd be safer than fort Knox if we got the goblins involved, anyway lets go and have a look at the muggle place,"

As they drove through the estate Gates Max was immediately hit by one term – _self-absorbed_," everything was ridiculously big and even more expensive. The house wasn't so bad with only gold painted gates and over zealous gardens but there were too many rooms for Max to imagine living there comfortably with only Miss D, Brigitte and Harry. He shook his head who duly locked the house back up and got them back in the car.

It took them another half an hour of inane chatter before they arrived at the heavily fortified neighbourhood. "This ones only got one house on sale and its kind of small but in huge demand, the estate's called Haven and its got some of the best security in L.A. Its got round the clock guarding around the perimeter and great surveillance systems outside of the homes. You've got a communal Basketball court and playground were everyone tends to meet up at as well as some brilliant warding on the gates to the homes themselves which stop those with ill intent entering." Jake told a grinning Max who had the window rolled down and was gazing about in wonder. The place screamed happy and safe. And amongst the packs of children that ran around screaming and laughing in the midday, he could just imagine a mop of uncontrollable black hair and a head of cornflour gold running alongside them.

"Its amazing, if the house is any good at all I'd say give me the paperwork and I'll sign here and now."

"Thought you might say that, just remember its going to be really pricey. Most people living here are working in the presidential offices or are company head,"

"Don't worry about the bank breaking any time soon, lets just say I made some excellent investments over the years and even if my career goes down the drain I'll still be golden."

"okay, here we are," Jake said driving up to an ivy wrapped gate. Max couldn't make out anything of the building itself due to the heavy glamour charms which made it hard to focus on. Jake got out and quickly punched in the numbers to the gate and watched with a grin on his face as the gate swung open.

If Max had ever contemplated a dream house, this was it. It looked around two stories tall but a triangle window amongst the tiled roof looked promising. It was in the style of a Spanish villa, painted bright clean white with palm trees on either side of the entrance and long ivy tendrils climbing up the sides of the house. A simple cobblestone front yard with a set of simple white marble stones and a gold beach wood door. The entrance all was just as great with two rooms leading out from either side. The floor was a subtle combination of white and cream tiles that made excellent blend. It was a little bit larger than Max would usually pick but the set of double stairs that joined together at the base was a nice touch. The living room had floor to ceiling windows facing the garden which was lush with plenty of room for running about and a great curved pool that the kids would love. An open plan kitchen with a colour plan of gold beach wood and white paint meant that Miss D would be ecstatic, she was always complaining about not having enough space in her kitchen to bake the dishes she wanted to. This wing of the house also had floor to ceiling windows though it looked out onto an open space and small gazebo that would perfect come summertime. The rooms were surprisingly cool and would probably be a gift from heaven once the Easter warmth ramped up a notch to the American bone dry summers.

The second floor was equally as nice, with five bedrooms and one study overall, which meant each of them could have their own room and their would still be a guest room for possible visitors. It was the top floor that would probably excite Brigitte the most. Recently she had began a newly discovered passion for dance and the renovated attic had enough space for the mirror set he always saw her practising at lessons, as well as room for several instruments and easel to practice her other skills at.

After exploring the entire house (or mini mansion depending on who you asked) Max turned to Jake and said "I want it. I want it bad and I want it now." and that was the end of the discussion, not that Jake argued with him. Max had just made his career as the people with the cash to buy the house often turned it down as it was too understated for them – add on the celebrity signature that would be on the dotted line and he'd be more than golden, he'd be freaking platinum. It took around two hours for the deeds to be written and Jake had the wonderful opportunity to watch his vapid boss fall over herself trying to please (and flirt) with the hottest ticket in Hollywood at the moment.

After that the details about the school, the car and magic tutoring were quickly ironed out and Max was on the phone discussing the moving date. "Well Brigitte's recital is next week Thursday and I don't see her missing that, what about straight afterwards? That gives us enough time on this end to say goodbye sort Harry's and Brigitte's bank accounts,"the ever practical Miss D said, summing up the situation briefly and left no room for argument.

Just as he was about to hang up he heard an excited "Papa, have chosen our school?" Harry asked.

"I have, you'll be attending Hailstone preparatory – and no it does not hail stones there. I think you'll really like it there, they haven't got a ballet program but they have a really good modern dance program. Oh meant to mention, Harry at the moment are going to go into kindergarten but I'm going to see if you can skip a grade as you already know all the stuff they're going to study this year. Brigitte you'll be going into third grade – that's like year 4 – but you'll be taking the high school art and music classes," Max explained, as briefly as he could "Look I've got to go, I have meeting with the American Grignotts branch in 5 minutes so stay safe and I'll see you Thursday morning, okay? Love you guys." They quickly replied with their "Love you too" and Miss D left a tart warning about making sure there was food in the house when they moved in.

Closing his mobile, he breathed in deep and walked into the bank... oh how he hated banks.


End file.
